Creation of Complexity
by Les Mots de Meaux
Summary: Of course, if one wakes up, then the dream has ended. But what happens if one doesn't wake up?


**A/N: I am aware that many theories regarding the ending of the film **_**Inception**_** have been circling around the Internet. This piece simply expresses my own opinion of the matter of the ending of this film. Spoilers, obviously, are present. In addition, debating is welcome, but I would ask that you, if you review, refrain from flaming this simply because my opinion differs from yours. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the film **_**Inception**_**, nor do I own any of the characters, ideas, or the plot. I own only my opinions and the arrangement of the words upon this page. **

Dom Cobb set his totem, his wife's spinning top, upon the table. Slowly, he let it begin to spin around in its circles. He watched it for a moment, entranced by the graceful turns it made. Idle fascination quickly turned into intent staring as he watched it complete more and more turns.

Suddenly, he was struck by a thought that perhaps it did not really matter anymore. What if this was a dream after all, and he was now in limbo with his children? Or the opposite, what if this was finally reality, and he was at long last allowed back to his home?

Either way, the top was spinning still upon the table. Cobb supposed that it could fall or keep spinning, judging by what little he knew of physics and momentum.

Cobb also supposed that he had better things to do than sit at this table and stare at the spinning top. For instance, he had his children to visit, and his parents to see at long last together.

Cobb stood up from the table, leaving the top behind him to choose its own course. He looked out to the window, remembering a time when his children had sat just outside, their backs turned to him. He remembered what he had done, and he remembered the grief and guilt he had felt afterwards.

He walked away from the table and the window, deciding to amend everything all at once. He walked away to the living room, where he could hear his children, his Philippa and his James, playing amongst themselves. If this was really a dream, or if this was really a reality, then at least his children were there. Cobb could let his mind rest knowing that.

Letting his mind rest was an uncommon, unusual sensation for him. His work prohibited such absence of activity. But perhaps here, perhaps now, he would succumb to the ever-coveted feeling of bliss that was a blank mind.

Cobb walked into the living room, his hands shoved into his pockets, and he sat down upon the couch. For once, Dom Cobb, extractor extraordinaire, was at peace.

The spinning top, though Cobb could not see it from the living room, was rather active still.

It kept spinning.

**

* * *

**Arthur set his bags down on top of his living room sofa, setting his car keys on the side table beside it. He was tired, but he supposed that sleeping could wait for now. He figured he should at least unpack his bags before entering that most blissful stage of sleep.

He picked his bags up again with a grunt and headed for his bedroom, laying the bags upon the bed. Arthur started unpacking them, placing his clothes in his laundry basket to take downstairs in the morning; he did not have his own washer and dryer in his small apartment. He took off his leather jacket, throwing it across the back of the chair in front of his desk.

Arthur then took a silver, industrial briefcase from his bags, setting it carefully upon the desk. He examined it with keen eyes, looking for any damage it might have gained from the long flight. Luckily, the briefcase seemed to be in top condition, and he set it back down upon the wooden desk.

He laid his bags on the floor next to his chair with a sigh. This had been his hardest job to date, he felt sure of it.

Arthur had had to trick one of the most well-taught men in the business. He had had to change the mind, twist the thoughts, of someone so…careful with what he expressed. He, after all, was one of the best in his line of work. He was quite the point man, when it came to it.

Slowly, he leaned back to fall backwards upon his bed. Arthur sunk into the soft comforter, finally giving his tired flesh and bones a break.

His mind, though, would not receive such a sentiment.

He was not simply a point man; his thoughts exceeded such a simple (for him, at the very least) job. Arthur knew more than just what was required of a point man. Arthur was more than just a point man.

He was a friend, a brother, a companion, in the emotional sense. Sometimes, only he could get the target to listen to him. Such a trickery, a false companionship, was very helpful to his work beyond being a point man. He could become the target's greatest ally when no one else was there for him. But he would always reveal his true colors in the end, if there was an end.

Arthur had realized many things about dreams from the start. First off, one never really knew when a dream started. He was sure scientists had great explanations for this, but he himself only knew the fact for what it simply was. He also knew something else. Dreams…one could never really tell when they ended.

Of course, if one wakes up, then the dream has ended.

But what happens if one doesn't wake up?

Then, how would one know when the dream ends? They really cannot, Arthur knows, unless they have their totem upon their person. Which is why Arthur keeps a very close eye upon his own totem, a loaded die.

Totems, like many other things in life, are non-transferable. One cannot share their totem with anyone else. A totem only works for the one who created it.

Without their totem, one cannot tell the difference between the dream and the reality. One does not know when they have truly woken up.

It hurt Arthur to complete this job, it really did. This betrayal, this trickery, hurt him very deeply. He had not wanted to do this job, yet deep inside, he knew he had had to.

After all, Dom Cobb was not the only one who could perform an inception.


End file.
